Smoke Break /Georgenotfound/

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George came back with two bowls of oatmeal, two cups of coffee, and two bananas - all placed on a tray that I was surprised he managed to balance on one hand. He caught me smiling at my phone, yet little did he know that I was smiling at his tweet.

"Whatcha smiling at?" He gave me a subtle grin, slowly placing the tray on the bed as I quickly closed the app.

"Hm?" I looked at him, the happiness still adamant on my face.

George tilted his head, chuckling as I became aware of my suspicious behavior and weird responses to his questions. Even in my confused state, I knew I was acting all over the place. He definitely noticed it too.

To divert attention from my behavior, I picked up one of the bowls he brought and placed it between my thighs.

"Hey! I grabbed that one for myself!" He frowned, a little pout forming on his lips even though his tone was half-joking.

"You can't have it," I said casually, taking a spoonful into my mouth.

"Oh really? I might just steal it from you," he teased, and deep down, I knew he'd actually go for it.

"No, but seriously. This one's got peanut butter in it," and I was not kidding, "that one's safe though. It's all yours."

George gave me a skeptical look, like he was trying to decide if I was messing with him or being honest. "Why would you even have peanut butter stuff in here? Are you trying to kill me?"

"Excuse me?" I raised a brow.

"Just imagine if I accidentally put some of that in my mouth to taste it."

"That's why you don't go around putting my... stuff in your mouth."

That sounded totally wrong. And now he's smirking.

I let out a sigh, and from that moment on, we continued eating in silence. Despite the absence of words, his smirk seemed to resonate loudly in the air, amplifying the awkwardness and the tension.

The silence was the calm before the storm. It was calm while it lasted. Literally.

Well, indeed it was silent until he tweeted again. My phone buzzed yet again. And instead of ignoring it, I started acting like the total idiot I was. I freaked out and tried to silence my phone as quickly as I could. Juggling a spoon in my other hand, I accidentally dropped my phone onto the mattress while attempting to mute it with just one hand.

It was a disaster. A total disaster.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, quickly lifting it back up and thanking the heavens that it fell screen down, and George didn't see anything.

However, when I met his gaze, I understood that he didn't necessarily have to see anything to know everything. Things were becoming more and more apparent with each passing moment.

I watched as his gaze shifted from my face to the screen of his phone. In a split second, before I could even register that muting my phone was still something I needed to do, he managed to send out another tweet.

And he continued – another tweet, and then another. Essentially spam tweeting random letters, just to make my phone buzz repeatedly.

With adrenaline pumping through my shaky hands, I finally managed to mute my phone, attempting to maintain composure through what felt like the most embarrassing scenario imaginable. George just stared at me – no smile, no frown, no emotion. Just a blank stare.

I'd rather die.

"Aria?" He spoke, the accent thick on my name.

I kept my eyes fixed on my phone, avoiding any possible eye contact. Yet, I could sense his intense gaze even without looking up.

"Hm?" I hesitated to meet his eyes.

"Look at me."

His words hit me like a shockwave. I nervously bit my lip, and slowly looked up.

"Yeah?" Trying to look and sound unbothered wasn't really working either.

He blinked blankly, looking back and forth between my face and my phone.

"What's going on?" The confrontation wasn't too direct, but it still made my cheeks heat up.

"What do you mean?"

"Why was your phone buzzing?"

"I was getting notifications..?"

"What notifications?"

"And why is that any of your business?"

My sudden outburst surprised us both. I realized I had nothing to hide, just playing along with his lies and secrets.

"Oh, wow, okay." The disappointment in his voice was clear. Perhaps he would've said something if a phone call hadn't interrupted our already messy conversation.

Before George answered the call, I noticed the name "Nick" displayed on the screen. The volume was up when he picked up the call.

"Why are you tweeting random shit on main!? Are you hacked or dumb!?"

George aggressively pressed the volume down key until I couldn't hear his friend anymore.

"None, I'll call you back later."

He ended the call, placing his phone screen-down on my bed. It served as a reminder that I wasn't the one being secretive; he was.

"Who was that?" I decided, why not, I'll give him a taste of his own medicine and stick my nose in his personal life.

"And is that any of your business?" He shot back, mirroring my approach.

At that moment, we both recognized that someone had to address it. Either of us could, but neither wanted to. Both of us opted to play dumb cause it was simpler. It was easier.

"Ugh," I rolled my eyes.

"Don't roll your pretty eyes at me."

I let go of a big sigh, purposefully giving him the most dramatic eyeroll I could pull off without going permanently blind.

And as a response, he moved closer, making me hold my breath.

"I know you know."

My heart was galloping out of my chest to start with, and his words almost gave me a heart attack.

I frowned, shaking my head in disagreement. "I don't know what I know."

"Look at you blushing and getting all flustered from lying," he chuckled, the scent of his cologne poisoning my mind, "be honest with me, darling. Your face is burning up."

He wasn't clever at all if he assumed that my blush meant I was lying. He was just so close to me that I was internally freaking out.

"I probably just have a fever." I wasn't confident with my excuse at all.

Scooting even closer to me, George raised his hand and cupped my cheek, as if he was checking my temperature. In reality, he just used it as an excuse to pull my face closer to his until our lips were just a few inches apart.

"I'm sick," my voice was close to a whisper, "don't get too close."

His thumb caressed my cheek and slid down to my bottom lip, gently tracing it with his soft fingertip.

I took in a sharp breath.

"You're gonna get sick," I spoke again, feeling his lips so close to mine that I could almost feel the softness of them.

"Couldn't care less about that," smiling, he cut the distance completely, giving me a brief kiss as a taste, "already sick enough of playing pretend." With that, he deepened the kiss.